Fallen Princess.
It's easy ta be misunderstood.
It's easy ta look at someone, and think ya know about them.
When ya see them down and outs on buses, sittin' all smelly and sad, reeling about and muttering ta themselves, ya edge away and think, "That person is a waste." Ya don't ever stop and think, "well maybe someone oughta try and help. Or maybe that person just couldn't help themselves, and nobody else would."
When they see me, I know what they think. "That girl ain't nothin' but a slut. And she ain't ever gonna be anythin' but a slut."
I don't care. I let them think that.
It's better they do. Because then they won't ever know the truth.
The truth that it's easier for people ta hate ya, or fear ya, then for them to pity ya.
I used ta be just like them - Velma, with her simperin' goody-two-shoes looks. Graz, with her wacky personality, and her-come-hither smile. Clarice, and her unruffled, perfect elegance. And Minnie. Minnie, and her total innocence. Her genuinely nice life - nice parents, nice home, nice looks, nice attitude. Sweet. Understandin'. Carin'. Never questionin'. Always helpful. And so new. So perfect. Pristine. Most of all - undamaged.
Not me. I'm the cacklin', evil warty witch, who likes ta lure kids away from their nice lives. I'm the jealous, tarty queen who wants ta corrupt everyone around her. I ain't never gonna be the young, pure princess, stuck in her tower waitin' for her knight.
And ya know what?
That's a good thing.
Cause at least now I know.
I know that fairy tales ain't real - there is no Prince Charming, no knight in shining armour; that in real life, when ya first see that shiny red apple, and wonder, just wonder, what it maybe tastes like, then ya already doomed. That when ya finally taste the forbidden fruit, there ain't no turnin' back. No kiss will bring you back - no kiss will ever be the same. No one will ever want to rescue ya - coz nobody ever wants damaged goods. Nobody ever wants ya - once ya fall, ya fall forever.
And I'm still there. Still fallin'.